Time is Ticking
by wolfluvermh
Summary: A golden sword. That's what it started with. A golden sword and a note, found on a harmless date. Suddenly, their world changes. Percy and Annabeth are thrust into an ongoing struggle between the forces of slightly good and slightly evil, and the differentiation of right and wrong diminishes. With the help of Cato, son of Kronos, can they save the children of the titans?
1. Chapter 1

**First Percy Jackson fanfiction, so don't be too harsh! I do have some experience in the writing field, but not much. Please, review as much as possible to help me succeed!**

**This is assuming the Heroes of Olympus never happened (which, honestly, I wish was the case). I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

Annabeth walks along the shore, gazing out at the turmoil of currents smashing against the sand. It's cold and well past tourist season, so the shells littering the beige beach are rare and beautiful. Occasionally, Annabeth steps on one and the sharp points poke deep into her bare feet. The cool, damp sand quickly soothes the temporal pain. The terrain shifts underneath her feet, sculpting to the shape of her sole.

Annabeth's eyes sweep over the sea to her left. It's choppy today, the greyish green waters stirred with the storms that'd passed through yesterday. Wistfully, she searches for a head of dark hair peaking over one of the frothy white crests. She finds nothing. Nothing, of course, but a large, hair spider crawling across the dunes towards her.

Looking back, Annabeth admits that it wasn't that large or ferocious. It wasn't even all that close, just about a yard away from her ankle. But it was certainly hairy, and certainly heading in her direction on slow, creepy legs.

Annabeth screams and lurches backwards, straight into something lean and strong. That thing goes _oof_ with surprise and holds her with long, gangly arms packed with muscles. Recognizing the sweet salty smell of the ocean on the thing's shirt, Annabeth wraps her arms around Percy and hides her face away from the spider.

Annabeth hears the sound of pressurized water smashing against the sand, and what she swears is an arachnid's cry of pain. Percy's firm arms close tighter around her, and he clutches Annabeth to his body. Laying her head against his collar bone, Annabeth allows her breath to swirl up to his neck.

Annabeth feels Percy lightly brush a strand of hair out of her face. "Sorry I'm late."

She hugs a bit closer to him, opening her eyes just enough to see his sea green eyes. "Did you kill it? Where is the spider?"

"Over there, over there, and little bit over there." Annabeth feels him pointing with one hand, and can detect the hint of amusement in his voice. Cheeks warming, she realizes what she's doing: clutching her boyfriend like a raft in a flood because of a tiny spider. That's so… stereotypical.

Annabeth lurches back from his arms, blushing madly. Glaring at Percy threateningly, she asserts, "I can kick your butt."

He shrugs, moderately unperturbed. One of those black eyebrows rise. "You could kick it," agrees Percy mischievously, "except I think there are much more _interesting_ things you could be doing with my butt."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and elbows the Son of the Sea God playfully, but she still feels sheepishly embarrassed. "Sorry I went so… girly."

Percy's smile is a bit like the ocean: mysterious and deep. "Don't worry. I kinda liked it."

"Of course you did," laughs Annabeth, but she can feel her cheeks burning again. "A girl pressed up against _you_ isn't something that happens every day."

"Especially a girl like you," Percy compliments sincerely. "Anytime you see a spider, give me a call. I'll come as quick as I can. Your wish is my command." He pauses. "What movie is that from?"

"Lots of movies," answers Annabeth, leaning down to catch his hand in hers. Percy smiles and rubs his thumb over the back of her palm. "Pick one, Seaweed Brain."

"Possibly one that involves kissing?" he suggests, those beautiful sea green eyes lighting up with hope. Those wonderful eyes… Annabeth isn't ashamed to say that, since meeting Percy, that particular shade of green had become her favorite color.

Leaning forward and balancing on her toes, she cranes up and smashes their lips together in a passionate kiss. Percy's hand wraps around her waist, and her hands run through his silky black hair. The sensual kiss is flavored with their compassion for one another. His salty lips move against hers, and his love mixes with hers until Annabeth doesn't ever want to stop.

But, then again, everyone needs oxygen.

At the same moment, they burst apart. Percy's eyes are unreadable pools of emotion as he gasps, his windblown hair even more disheveled than before. Annabeth smiles at him, and his face splits into an answering grin.

"Okay," he laughs breathily, "that was great. Now I really wish I could've spent spring break with you."

Annabeth curls her hand around Percy's muscled neck, stroking it in a way she knows he likes. "It's not your fault Poseidon lost his trident, or that he wanted his bravest son to go and retrieve it."

The smile that breaks over Percy's face makes Annabeth's heart sing. Her stomach becomes fluttery underneath his tender eyes. "D'aww, don't exaggerate," he mumbles bashfully, but Annabeth knows that, from the look in his eyes and the lack of conviction Percy speaks with, his mind is far off.

Annabeth sighs and rolls her eyes, returning to just holding his hand, and begins to walk over the damp sand once again. Percy obliges without comment, eagerly letting her take the lead. Sometimes, it's hard to believe that this sweet, submissive guy was the one who lead the battle against the titans in Manhattan. At first glance, Percy's just a normal dude.

But then you take a second glance.

And everything changes.

Although he's got a killer smile and the best kissing abilities of any guy, _period_, Percy has a definite dark side. She's seen it before: the angry scowl he wears as he uses Anaklusmos as he battles monsters. Annabeth likes to believe she's helped him in containing the sea's mighty temper that occasionally rises in her boyfriend, but, sometimes, nothing can really hold back that wild part of him.

Most of the time, though, he's as always: joking, laughing, and giving her those adorable cow-eyes (or maybe sea cow-eyes?). Today, Percy seems totally fine. Confident, in control, and very much in love.

Throughout careful studying from the time Annabeth had first met Percy as a twelve-year-old goofball, she'd been analyzing his boyfriend-material without even realizing it; female hormones to pick out the best male to reproduce with and protect her children from threats. It's really quite unavoidable. And Annabeth's convinced that she couldn't have chosen a better man.

Smiling to herself, Annabeth leans her head up against Percy's shoulder, enjoying his warmth on the chilly day. Percy glances down at her and smiles affectionately. He drops her hand and instead rings his arm around her shoulder.

"I missed you," he whispers in Annabeth's ear, sending shivers down her spine. "I don't want to leave you again."

Annabeth gazes up at Percy's beautiful sea green eyes with more adoration than she'd care to admit. "Hopefully, you won't have to."

"Hope is not something I want to lean on solely," Percy sighs, and silently, Annabeth agrees. Hope has this funny way of evaporating when it's the only thing to trust in. For a demigod, it's not a clever idea to rely on hope alone.

Annabeth cocks her head. She purses her lips, knowing full well it's time to change the subject. "You look like you'd found something you wanted to show me earlier, and you hinted at it in the IM. What did you find? If it's skimpily clad mermaids, I think I'll skip."

Percy laughs merrily. "I'm dumb, but not stupid. They'd be canned tuna by the time you were finished with 'em. No, we're not going anywhere near the mermaids."

"So, you admit there are mermaids," challenges Annabeth, cocking an eyebrow. She tenses, freezing in the wet sand and making a Mission Impossible pose. "The hunt is on."

Percy laughs even harder, and Annabeth's heart leaps with pleasure. "There are such things as mermaids, but they scare me. Picture Ariel with shark teeth and glow stick eyes. Not fun."

Annabeth grimaces. "You just ruined my childhood."

Percy smiles, but it quickly falters. "We're way off topic, and the tides are changing quickly. Come on." Gently, he tugs Annabeth's hand towards the frothing waves. "It's underneath the water. I'll take you there."

Annabeth's legs lock, but not out of fear of the choppy water. She turns to Percy's confused face and glares at him. "Are you crazy? This may be April, but this January weather."

With a relieved smile, Percy shakes his head. "Don't worry. I'll protect you from the cold as long as we're underwater. You won't feel a thing."

Annabeth glares at him a second longer. Even in his grungy flannel shirt and jeans, Percy could've been the god he'd given up. Those sea green eyes beckon her away into the water, like a kelpie from those silly myths. An ocean breeze ruffles his hair, and Annabeth isn't sure Tartarus could keep her away from him. Annabeth shrugs off her coat, revealing her Camp Half-Blood shirt underneath, and allows Percy to pull her to the waves.

Giving Percy one last testy I-will-kill-you-if-this-goes-wrong glance, Annabeth inches closer to the foamy waters as it gently brushes against the smooth sand. Percy already stands ankle deep, smiling at her invitingly from the water. Cautious, Annabeth lets the next oncoming waves tickle her toes. Remarkably, it doesn't feel freezing; just a bit cool, like you want the ocean to be.

Annabeth grins, and takes off through the shallow water. She collides into Percy and wraps him in a warm hug. His arms fold around her like steel doors. Annabeth nuzzles his chest, humming to herself. Swirling through her hair, Percy's breath smells awful, like he hadn't brushed his teeth in days.

Before she can stop herself, Annabeth's right hand twists around to touch the small of his back. Instantly, Percy stiffens in her arms, and his breath jars with pain. Oh, gods, she hadn't hurt him, had she? Retracting quickly, Annabeth looks up at Percy, an apology already on her lips.

Percy silences whatever she'd been about to say with a tender gaze. His hands slide up from around Annabeth's waist until they rest on the sides of her arms.

It's a quiet sort of moment, and Annabeth knows better than to interrupt it. The waves lap around her feet, and the wind plays with her hair, but Annabeth only focuses on Percy's warm eyes.

Annabeth knows far too well not to place all her trust in a guy, of course, but Percy's the one she'd want watching her back. She'd fought with him millions of times. She knows how he operates, how he thinks, how he views the world. And if this, whatever it is, is exciting him, then he must think that she'll love it.

"C'mon," he says eventually, tearing his gaze from Annabeth's eyes. Percy takes her hand encouragingly, and smiles at her. "Let's go on an adventure!"

* * *

Cato watches the pair disappear into the water with a frown. Still frowning, he backs away, vanishing into the high stalks littering the dunes. High above, the clouds knit apart and allow a beam of sunlight to flow over his pale skin. Cato smiles, and sifts through the sand like he'd never been there at all.

* * *

It's wonderful exploring the ocean alone, but it's even better with Annabeth.

She swims alongside me with that slow human paddle, her eyes wide from inside the head-bubble I'd made for her. We stay close to the surface, never venturing further than thirty feet or so, because of the water pressure. I constantly have to worry about keeping her bubble of oxygen replenished; it would be _too_ much to dive down to those depths and have to worry about pressure.

Honestly, there's plenty of fantastic sights here, even if we can't see the bottom. Silver fish flash like thousands of quarters in their agile dance through the water. The sunlight filters in through the somewhat murky water with a picturesqueness that would be perfect for whoever makes post cards. The shafts of sunlight fade around Annabeth, and the ripples of light twist all over her back.

Annabeth seems to be enjoying it, which is good. I'd been a bit worried she'd get bored. But those intense grey eyes flick everywhere and take everything in, like two searchlights in the ocean light. Every time she catches me staring at her, she grins and I look away, blushing. Can you blush underwater? I see no reason why it's not possible.

A hippocampus darts through the water towards me. I can sense it coming, even before I see it. Its rainbow scales glint in the light as it darts forward, fish tail flicking in the water. Annabeth's eyes widen. With a watery bugle, the fish-pony pulls into a stop twenty yards away, pawing at the water.

I frown. Now, normally, I can detect the thoughts of hippocampus and other horselike or fishy animals, thanks to my godly Pop. But I can't hear anything that this one's trying to say, no matter how hard it's trying. It rears in the water, those flying hooves leaving trails of bubbles. But I can't hear a word. With a snort of defeat, it zips off, like it'd never been there in the first place.

"What did it want?" asks Annabeth, her voice watery through both the bubble and the… well, water between us.

I will the water to bring me a bit closer, and, with an alteration of currents, it does. "I dunno," I answer truthfully. "He seemed a bit confused. Maybe he wanted directions to some hippocampi night club."

Annabeth shoots me a glance like, "you're so weird". From inside the air bubble ringing her golden hair, she looks a bit like an aquatic astronaut. I grin back at her.

"Come on," I laugh, grabbing her hand. "We're really close. I think you're going to like what you find."

* * *

The still beauty is unequivocal. Inside of her bubble, Annabeth's jaw drops. Percy stares at her anxiously, those green eyes searching for her approval.

It's a majestic sunken ship, a Spanish galleon by the looks of it. And it's been here for hundreds of years, untouched by civilization in any way. The way the sunlight frames the rotting mast is beautiful in a sad sort of way. Seaweed grows over the once-majestic deck. Algae coats the old wood, covering it in mossy green. A massive crack splits through the center of the hull, where it rests on a rocky deathbed. But that's not the real reason it touches Annabeth's heart.

The _architecture_. He must've seen the _architecture_, and immediately thought of her.

And though it may be ancient, it's brilliant design, better than Annabeth had seen in a long time from that era. The curves in the wooden boards framing the old doorways and the smooth handrails for the captain all scream designs at Annabeth. She longs for her laptop as she paddles closer to the mermaid figurehead to admire the exuberant décor flowering over the ship. It must've been a fine thing, when it was still painted. Now it sits at the bottom of an ocean floor, completely abandoned and forgotten.

Percy hovers next to her, swimming like one of those mermaids they'd joked around about earlier. His black hair undulates in the water. "You like it?" he questions sheepishly, his voice bubbled by the water's density.

Awkwardly, Annabeth throws her arms around him. As soon as her skin connects with Percy, she becomes dry as his special Poseidon magic spreads to her. "Oh, you adorable little Kelp Face."

"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckles, wrapping Annabeth up in a gentle embrace. Annabeth grins against him, relishing the oddity of the moment: underwater, hugging her perfectly dry boyfriend, next to an old shipwreck surprise, all because Percy had been sweet enough to spot this place for her.

When they break apart, Annabeth is not a fan of all her clothes soaking through again. She picks at her soggy orange shirt with dismay, looking down at the waterlogged hem. As Annabeth glances towards the sea floor, something catches her eye, something she probably wasn't meant to see.

A gold glitter shines from the sandy shore directly below her. It's shiny and glinting, peeking out from the ship's shadow like a timid star. Frowning, Annabeth points to the glitter on the ground. Percy's eyebrows pull together, and he frowns as he stares down at the glitter.

Slowly, Percy's face splits into a grin. "Wanna go check it out? I bet there could be gold in a ship like this!"

"Alright," agrees Annabeth, cautious of the mysterious sparkle. She eyes it quizzically. All of her instincts scream danger, and yet… There's one little voice in the back of her mind urging Annabeth to swim down and scoop it up in her hands, to discover whatever that strange glimmer is. "But let's be careful. The last thing we need is a sea serpent."

"Lord, no," agrees Percy. He takes Annabeth's hand, drying her again, and the water shoots them down the last ten feet. Annabeth's ears pop, and her hair swirls in the current. The bubbles form a crown around Percy's head during their descent, and Annabeth can see the kingly part of him in that split second. But then the moment passes as her feet hit the murky bottom.

The sand's different from sand on the beach. Finer. Muddier. It sculpts to her feet more. Curiously, Annabeth wiggles her toes in the sand, watching as the powder mushrooms through the water with fascination. "Amazing," she whispers.

"That it is," laughs Percy, but his eyes are focused on the prize.

The galleon had looked impressive from above, but now, level with the sunken masterpiece, Annabeth can truly respect its former glory. It towers overhead in a patchwork of wood beams and carved furnishing. And, right in the shadow of the ship, the gold thing shines.

It's a sword. A very fine sword, with a black leather hilt (how that's not destroyed by the water, she's not sure) and a spiraling design etched onto the broad of the blade. It's different from Riptide in the likes that it's a bit longer and less leaf-shaped, but in majority, they're alike. Attached to the handle is a small paper parcel, dampened by the prolonged time underwater.

"Should I go grab it?" Percy asks skeptically. "It'd make a good addition to the armory."

Annabeth studies it shrewdly. "Read the note first. That's gotta have some clue as to what it's doing down here."

Percy releases her hand and paddles through the water towards the note, using the currents as accelerators. He pauses above the sword, inspecting with suspiciously, slowly sinking down until his knees hit the sand. Cautiously, Annabeth's boyfriend unties the soggy paper with so carefully you'd think he was playing with dynamite.

He unfurls the now-dry paper and examines it with confused green eyes. Shrugging, Percy turns to her. "This is… confusing."

"C'mhere." Annabeth waves him over impatiently. "Let me take a crack at it."

Percy obeys, darting through the water towards her like a human torpedo. The rush of water as he straightens out next to Annabeth plays with her hair. Holding out the note and grabbing Annabeth's hand in the same motion, he says, "It's weird. Like… like it's from a time traveler."

Annabeth unfurls the crumpled paper and begins to read, her eyebrows shooting up more with every line.

_Dear Percabeth,_

_I see you've found my sword! My swordy-sword! The sword I use for swording! Thank you! I just dropped this, and my girlfriend is being evil. She won't dive down and get it because she's ticked at me. So, I'm waiting at the beach. How do I know that you'll be the ones to find this? It's… complicated, for lack of a better word. I promise I won't use this sword for swording you two on sticks. No, that's not how you spell it… Whatever. I need it back. WE'll be great friends!_

_Sincerely, _

_Cato_

_Son of Kronos_

_PS: I'm your biggest fan! I even have the limited edition Percabth bobble-head!_

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**I've got a few other fanfictions going on right now, so at the moment, those are in top priority. However, if you review this enough and favorite it enough, this will become my top priority and I'll work on this the most. **

**Every chapter, I do a poll, just to see what you guys thought of a particular area of the fanfiction. Please answer, it improves my writing!**

**POLL: Did I capture Percabeth's playful bickering well? I tried my best, but I think it was a little rusty in some areas.**

**Ciao,**

**~wolfluvermh**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the wait.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Annabeth gawks as the wolf races over the surface of the water. Its elegant white paws strike repeatedly at the waves, leaping over the mounting crests like hurdles on a course. The beast's majestic white fur fans out on either side of its regal head, like a lion's mane. Despite its animalistic appearance, something about the creature bounding over the sea just doesn't seem… threatening.

Percy had led her ashore, keeping his hand firmly clasped around hers to keep Annabeth dry. The beach had been as cool as ever, but the temperature of the icy ocean didn't really effect Annabeth. Which is good. It'd suck to be cold on a day like today.

Percy and Annabeth had kept their eyes peeled for this Cato fellow, with Percy's hand constantly on Riptide. But they'd been met by this creature. It'd rocketed through the high weeds along the dunes and raced right past them, hissing out over the water like a bullet from a gun. But it hadn't proceeded to wander very far, circling back to frisk over the waves like a puppy.

"She's funny, isn't she?" muses a deep voice next to Annabeth. The knife is in her hand and held at the boy's throat before she can even fully process what's going on. Eyes widening with shock, he holds his hands up and yelps, "Whoa! Peace treaty!"

"Who are you?" demands Percy, leveling his sword dangerously. Riptide glints in the light, and Annabeth feels his body brush against hers as he holds the blade up to the other guy's throat.

Analyzing him, Annabeth is puzzled. The boy looks maybe a year or two older than her, nineteen or so, and beefed up with impressive muscles. His black T-shirt hugs his athletic build, and a chain necklace drapes around his neck. The boy's muscular, true, but not ridiculously so; if Annabeth had to guess, she'd say that he can still run swiftly. Towering at nearly seven feet in height, he's almost intimidatingly tall. He can't possibly be human, can he? Curly black locks that belong on a model magazine pile atop his handsome head. At his waist, a scabbard hangs from his jean's belt loops. It's empty, and clearly made to fit the sword. His eyes are bizarrely golden, layered and deep with their differing shades of topaz.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't gut you like a fish," threatens Percy dangerously, each word making his chest vibrate against Annabeth's shoulder.

An animal snarl sounds from behind them, and a sound like a waterski slicing through the waves. The hairs on the back of Annabeth's neck stand on end, alert to the danger approaching from behind, but she knows automatically that she won't be able to turn in time to meet it.

But the boy flicks his hand, and the snarl stops abruptly.

"Oh, that's not nice," he scolds, like the boy's chiding a small child. "And you wonder why your social skills are not the best. Naughty, naughty!"

Annabeth turns, chills running down her spine. She jumps at the fearsome figure looming behind her, and Percy's breath jars.

There, suspended in the air, is the white wolf. Its paws are outstretched and leaping, and the sea spray from where it'd last kicked off the waves still floats aimlessly midair. The wolf's muzzle is twisted into a horrible snarl, its black lips peeled back over its gleaming ivory teeth. Those sea green eyes burn with hate, and the claws on the extended paws gleam like knives.

The scariest part? The beast's bared teeth are not even a foot away from Percy's neck.

"Terribly sorry about that," apologizes the boy in a chatty tone, shifting his weight with his hands still high in the air. "She gets snappy when people threaten to kill me. Loyalty and stuff. It's annoying at times. Sometimes sweet. Usually annoying."

Annabeth takes in his proudly handsome features, and the grandeur he unknowingly carries himself in. "You're this Cato fellow," she guesses. "The son of Kronos."

"Yup," he agrees cheerfully. Using one finger from his uplifted hand, Cato pokes a nail at the weapon strapped to Percy's back. "And you've got my sword. My swordy sword. The sword I use for swording. Thanks."

Percy frowns at the wolf. "You – you said your girlfriend wouldn't get it for you. And now there's a wolf."

Cato cocks a black eyebrow. "Haven't you ever heard of Sea Wolves, Little Olympian? The Vikings are right about something, once in a while."

Annabeth interrupts, furrowing her brow in confusion, and raising her dagger in a threat. "How…," she wonders. Cato prompts her to continue with a half-smile. "How do you exist? A child of Kronos? Isn't that impossible?"

"Annnnd that's why there's a demigod stereotype," concludes Cato with an innocent smile. "So stuck up. My word! Anyhoo, let's say there's a pretty mortal lady." He glances at Percy. "I swear on Styx that I won't do a thing to hurt your girlfriend… for the next three days. Can I have my hands back?"

Percy frowns and nods curtly.

"So," chatters Cato, holding two fingers like legs and making them walk across his palm, "there's this pretty mortal woman. And the idiot this particular woman is, she peers over the edge." The little legs lean over his fingertips, like a person looking down. "Take the wrong step and –" Cato makes a squeaky screaming noise as the legs slowly descend. "Bam! You're in Tartarus! Now, those titans down there don't miss a chance. It's suppertime for papa, and next thing you know, there's a couple little-Kronos running around. I escape, make my way back to reality with the help of Cora, my girlfriend" – he nods to the frozen wolf – "and lead a life of good with the few other demititans that scurry around over here."

Annabeth frowns. Percy's green eyes flick to her, and then back to Cato. The… the _son_ of _Kronos_ smiles easily, like he'd just invited them to go have a pastry or something. His bright gold eyes are flaming with cheer.

"How do I know I can trust you?" questions Annabeth icily.

"Swear it on Styx," he promises with a roll of his eyes, leaning back on his heels. "You really are feisty, aren't you?"

"My feistiness has nothing to do with the current situation," growls Annabeth, narrowing her eyes. "And you gave me brief statements and tricky words, words that can easily be twisted to form half-truths and lies."

It's Cato's turn to narrow his eyes. He crosses his arms and raises his head into a position of dominance. "Maybe," Cato suggests coolly, for the first time looking and sounding hostile, "I don't trust you, either. Sure, you killed my dad, whoop-dee-doo. But welcome back to the real world. I have no reason to trust a demigod with any of our secrets."

"Our?" notices Percy. "There's more of you?"

Cato shrugs, but the playfulness is gone now. "Of course. As long as there are stupid mortals, there will be demititans. And as long as there will be demititans, there will be demigods going out and questing for the skulls of demititans."

Annabeth gasps indignantly. "Nobody does that! You're prejudiced!"

Cato's attention swivels to her, and something inside of Annabeth withers underneath the power of those amber eyes. "That's what I thought about all the others, too," he agrees steadfastly. "But then I saw a little girl, just six years old, torn from the arms of her sister and murdered, simply for casting an awed glance at a god. No, I don't trust demigods. None of us do, really. We stay under the scope."

"So, if us demigods are so horrible, why did you bother contacting us?" challenges Percy. Annabeth feels an alpha male battle coming on. "It wasn't that smart for you to walk up and announce to the counselors of your dreaded enemies that you exist, is it?"

Cato shrugs. "In six and a half days, we'll be the best of friends. I just was curious about who I was befriending."

"You can see the future?" Annabeth butts in, fascinated. "How is that possible?"

Cato's smile turns gentle. His tense shoulders relax, and his golden eyes sparkle once again. "Athenians. Always so curious. I'm the son of time, practically. I can get glimpses of the future, but nothing precise. Nothing substantial. It's all just random flashes. Dates, times, places, people, things, emotions."

Annabeth studies him. "That's… that's pretty cool, I guess."

Cato beams at her. "No, it isn't! It's annoying! But thanks, anyway!"

"What about puppy over here?" wonders Percy, jerking a thumb towards the snarling wolf caught in time behind his shoulder. "You said she was your, uh, girlfriend. I'm all for gays, but, uh, that's a little strange, man."

"Yes." Cato frowns. "Yes, she's going to be ticked at me, isn't she? That's brilliant. I won't be able to get near the coasts for months. Oh, well." He gestures towards the white wolf. "That's Cora, your sister. Daughter of Poseidon. 'xcept, ya know, she got bored at the Camp Half-Blood they had in her time. She went looking for trouble, and found it with some Nordic gods. She became the immortal She Wolf out of her sister and brother, the Sea Wolves. Very dangerous." He gestures towards Percy. "Let's say you're the son of Floridian waters. Calm, peaceful, warm, and cheerful, with only the occasional, ah, riptide. Haha, punny. Then Cora would be Arctic waters: icy, dangerous, and unpredictable. She's got a killer sense of humor though. Uh, not literally."

"I have a sister?" wonders Percy aloud at the same time Annabeth blurts, "She went from Grecian to Nordic? How is that possible? And Sea Wolves?"

Cato holds up his hands in the universal signal for, "Whoa!" His eyes twinkle. "Let me get her away from Percy's neck and get a fire going. Then we can talk. Maybe, just maybe, we can sort out some sort of a treaty, eh?"

* * *

The fire makes the Kronos dude look downright creepy. I mean, he'd always looked sort of dramatic with those glowing golden eyes and his athletic figure, but the way the orange light and the prominent shadows cast across his royal features creeps me out. I give Annabeth's hand another squeeze, and refocus my attention on the flame.

The sunset along the beach really is quite wonderful. The clouds had cleared, leaving an open sky vulnerable to the vivid oranges, golds, and reds that'd painted the clouds. The sun dances over the obsidian black water, slowly sinking below the horizon.

Little figures made from smoke dance in and out of the fiery tongues, waltzing and pranking one another joyfully. Cato is at complete ease with the crackling fire and the dancing spirits, reclining on the crude wooden log benches he'd dragged to the fireside to sit on, occasionally striking up lively conversations with the little dudes.

I study him. Cato seems nice. Heck, he's the clumsiest thing I've ever seen in my life, and he uses his sword as a walking stick. His smile is cheerful, and, most of the time, those golden eyes are bright with mirth and playfulness. But then there's that every so often as he gazes over the sea or talks about the bountiful demititans, and a gleam appears. Every so often, he'll twist the sword expertly, or shave off leaf centimeters from a log with one casual sweep. He may appear innocent, but he's far from it.

But do I really believe that he's a bad guy?

Nah, not really.

The way he treated his girlfriend, my sister, had proved that. After she'd been released from her time-lock, she'd transformed back into an elegant white-haired lady, and nearly chewed his head off with her blunt human teeth. Cato had stood there patiently, taking the abuse and countering it with clever jibes of his own. Eventually, Cora had smacked him across the cheek, kissed it better, and raced back into the depths of the ocean.

"So, Cato," starts Annabeth, probably trying to break the awkward silence, "where do you… _demititans_ live? It has to be somewhere discreet, right?"

Cato beams at her. "We live underground! Like gophers! I like gophers. A lot. Anyway, we've carved entire cave systems from the rocks. There's cities beneath America. Before you demigods ever even crawled onto our land, us demititans had completely taken over these lands. Not ruining it and chugging the skies full of pollution, but going all Disney-Pocahontas."

"Why America?" I question, furrowing my brow. "I mean, bald eagles are great and all, but why not Australia?"

Cato's golden eyes meet mine. "Number one: you've got to be crazy to live in Australia. Number two: platypuses don't like demititans. Seriously, they hate us. Number three: there's a huge split in the skin of the world, running right through the Grand Canyon. It's a drop straight down to Tartarus. Nasty fall. So glad you don't have to live through that in this reality. But that crack is the easiest way for demititans to crawl back up. We always have people patrolling the edge to help any strugglers and to kick any monsters back into hell. Boring job. I'd much rather hunt for my father in the Badlands."

Annabeth's intense grey eyes narrow. She studies Cato doubtfully. "Badlands? Killing your father?"

Chaos lifts an eyebrow in the darkness. "Killing my father. Yeah. You demigods are too bound up in your own little world to notice the bigger picture, but half of Canada and all of Alaska is beyond the gods. Literally, mythology has no hold on that land. It's extremely easy for a titan to reform in those areas, even if they can never regain full power, or even cross into godly lands. Ha, that sounds funny. But we put a stop to their ravaging before they can seriously hurt people. Best fun in the world!"

It's as if the demititan had punched me in the chest. I'm too winded to say anything or do _anything_ besides grip Annabeth's hand a bit tighter. She grabs at me a bit more desperately, too.

"Kill titans?" I demand, eyes narrowing, putting on a brave face. Those reflective golden eyes fix on me, and I resist the urge to shiver.

"Yes," he says calmly, lifting his chin. "Kill titans."

"How?" wonders Annabeth in disbelief.

Cato's grin is beatific. "When you live forever, you pick up on a few things." He spins the sword on his fingertip like it's a basketball. "Like how to make avatars. With a lot of focus and hard work, we can literally make ourselves change shape into the Big, Bad Wolves. I have some pretty mean fangs."

"Change shape?" I repeat incredulously. "Like, magic?"

Annabeth turns to me, beating Cato to it. "Titans are older and more powerful than gods, Percy," she explains with that I-know-absolutely-everything tone of voice. "We have no clue what abilities their children may possess, so be nice about it. What I'm really interested is how your siblings managed to do it."

Cato's eyebrows raise. "I don't remember saying anything about 'siblings'."

Annabeth makes a cute gesture with her hands. Here comes know-it-all behavior. "You spoke about a brother earlier. I don't think you even realized it, but you were talking really fast. Another time, you said trio of the sea. I'm assuming you didn't mean Percy, because you were talking about adventuring through England. I don't think I ever let him off his leash for that long. My guess? She's got a brother and a younger sibling. The brother is most likely older than her, but not dominant, judging from her attitude. Her younger sibling is a bit of an annoyance, but she loves him/her all the same."

I stare at her for a solid thirty seconds during the silence following her theories. I rub my thumb over her hand and shake my head. "You're sexy when you're being smart. You know that, Wise Girl?" Her smile makes me practically melt away.

Pain sparks in Cato's eyes. He looks back into the roaring fire to hide his agony. "A brother," he corrects quietly, all pretenses of childish fun devoid in those pained golden eyes. "She… she has a brother. No sibling."

Annabeth frowns, but understanding dawns in those grey eyes. I, however, have moved on to a different subject entirely, bolting to my feet. The sand sifts around my feet, making it impossible to stand. A grin spreads over my features as I recognize a dark figure standing in the shadows.

"Nico!" I shout.

The Ghost King waves a hand half-heartedly at me. His floppy black hair falls into his pale forehead. Slowly, the boy edges closer to the fire, illuminating more of his sharply contoured face. His Stygian Iron sword swings from his belt, catching the firelight. My welcoming grin is not returned.

"Hi," he greets awkwardly. He glares at Cato. "I was told there was going to be one of Brendon's cookouts. Am I wrong?"

The way Nico says that, it sounds like a threat. Like, if there's no barbeque, I will shove this sword down your throat. I frown and turn to Cato but, as always, the dude is beaming. "Don't worry," he assures. "He'll be on it right away."

"Uh…" Annabeth trails off, pointing at something that had apparently just appear next to Nico. There's a shirtless man, maybe twenty-five in age, with sweet muscles and a cartoon dolphin tattooed onto one shoulder. He whistles to himself and flips zucchini like pancakes on top of a shiny red grill. Though the choppy white hair thing is cool, it looks a bit weird with his tan skin. His jeans are coated with water and dusted with sand. Green eyes twinkling, he looks up at me.

"Hello!" The man's voice is just as cheerful as Cato's, though, if anything, more childish. "Sorry, took a wrong turn. Ended up in Olympus. Wonderful job with the kitchen, Annabeth." Besides me, Annabeth's cheeks color with a blush. "Now I'm here! We're making what today, boys?"

"This is Brendon," introduces Nico in his signature monotone. "Brendon, meet Percabeth." The dude with the white hair winks and smiles.

"I'm craving French fries," orders Cato like he's in a restaurant, leaning back on the log. "Maybe with a dash of hot sauce. Oh, and some pickles on the side. Don't skimp on the calamari, either."

I cannot even let such a crime against flavors be committed. Glaring at the son of time, I scold, "Number one: calamari is not cool, bro. Not cool at all. Number two: why would you torture your mouth by mixing seafood with junkfood? That's like baking soda and vinegar. It's not cool, man."

"Agreed whole-heartedly," harrumphs Nico as he collapses on the homemade seat beside Annabeth. "It's going to taste disgusting."

"Percy puts ketchup and mustard on his eggs," points out Annabeth indifferently. "If that's not gross, then I don't know what is."

This is met with wailing and mourning. Cato buries his head in his arms, and doesn't look like he's willing to come out for a long time. Nico takes the effort to scoot a bit further from me, which is pretty extreme for him. The Brendon dude claws his hands down his face and moans.

"Why?" he demands. "Why would you do a thing like that? It goes against nature!"

In my opinion, a man needs to defend his tastes. "Don't judge a book by its cover," I protest. "It's good. By itself, an egg is too plain. By themselves, common condiments have too much kick. But when put together, well, that's heaven."

"You and I see heaven very differently," groans Cato from inside his hand fortress.

I grin wickedly. "If you're not willing to get this thing done, Clocks, then you might as well jump off the crazy train now."

Cato emerges from his hands. That face is twisted into a challenging smile, and playfulness dances in his golden eyes. He slaps his knee. "Was that a threat, Jackson?"

I grin at him. "You know it was. Let's get this over with."

Annabeth sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "I'm surrounded by idiots."

"Couldn't agree more," growls Nico.

* * *

**I really have nothing to say here.**

**POLL: so, obviously, there was a sibling for Cora and, if you haven't figured it out yet, Brendon. What do you think happened to her? **

**Ciao,**

**~wolfluvermh**


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